Dalton Highway – Day 2 – Deadhorse!

We wake up in Coldfoot to figure out why it’s really called that. It’s August 11, and it’s 28 degrees F!

Brr! Luckily I have my trusty heated vest, and I layer on pretty much ever stitch of clothing I have. Luckily it seems to be enough, I’m not really that cold.

We head North to see how bad the mountain pass is. The plan is to get as far up as possible, and when we feel like it’s unsafe to go further just take a photo, a GPS reading, and head back.

As we get closer to the Brooks Mountain Range, we can clearly see snow.

I’m starting to think that we may have an interesting ride through the pass. After all, it’s below freezing, and snow isn’t known to melt too fast North of the Arctic Circle. I mean, that’s why they call it the Arctic, right?

Luckily, the road was in a decent condition. It was definitely muddy and tough, kept you on your toes, but there was no snow left and we passed through without issue.

But it was definitely cold. Here we are in the sun, around mid day, and Dave’s bike is reading 1 deg C.

Look at all the snow! Good Lord, someone should tell Alaska that it’s in the Northern Hemisphere, and that type of behavior is not appropriate in August.

After the pass, the drive was beautiful. It’s past the Arctic tree line, so there are no trees whatsoever. In fact, approaching the mountains from the South, the trees had been getting steadily smaller and smaller until they were about waist high. “Mini – Trees.”

So anyway, the pass opened up to wide open valleys and the plains of the North Slope. Everything was covered in waist high shrubbery and water logged marsh. It sounds odd but it was really quite beautiful. The road continued to be unpaved, yet friendly. That is until the last 50 miles. It was an hour of washboard, ruts, mud, stress, and fun.

But it was worth it. When we got to the end of the road, the furthest North that you can drive to in the US, it was an unbelievable feeling of accomplishment, finality, and surprisingly a sense of loss. The goal is complete, there isn’t anything more to work for, to look forward to, no light at the end of the tunnel.

But what a wonderful light to bathe in.

Now, the town of Deadhorse is also aptly named; it is a mud-paved collection of prefab metal buildings where industrial machinery outnumbers passenger vehicles, and there is no alcohol allowed within 200 miles.

It is definitely the journey, and not the destination.

We made our way to the Arctic Caribou Inn to see about getting a tour to the Arctic Ocean (The entire area is run by BP and there is no access to the ocean for the public). I had tried to book it several times over the phone, but there was never any answer. The Inn informed us that we were welcome to go on the tour – after a 24 hour waiting period for an FBI backgroud check. Boo.

At $200 a night for hotels up here, and no alcohol within 200 miles, we decided to just head back.

We did a grueling trek back all they way to Fairbanks, arriving at 3am and scrambled to find the very last available room in town. We had to drive to 3 hotels and called another 10, but we found one. At 4am, settled in for a much deserved sleep.

Don’t worry, the journey is not quite over yet, more to come!

Fast Facts:

Odometer Reading: 11,880

Elapsed Miles: 8,689

Northernmost Lat/Lon:
N 70 13.362
W 148 25.242

Southernmost Lat/Lon:
N 24 32.783
W 81 47.853

Longest day of the year: 63 days, 23 hours, and 40 minutes, from May 20 to July 22

Longest night of the year: 54 days, 22 hours, and 51 minutes, from Nov 24 to Jan 18.

Lowest recorded temperature: –62 deg F.

Lowest recorded wind chill: –102 deg F.

Guess what happens if you pee outside when it’s –40 deg F? Nope, it does NOT freeze before it hits the ground. It vaporizes into a cloud before it hits the ground.